Less Than Ideal Circumstances
by retrogradient
Summary: Kurt knew college could mean meeting unique friends under weird and perhaps less than ideal circumstances, but he didn't know that those meetings weren't limited to the backseat of his car.


Kurt was having a strange day. It was one of those days that intended to be productive and progressive, but ended up being not just maddening, but also frustrating and confusing. It was headache inducing to even think about. It was as if Kurt was a machine that was missing a part, wondering around aimlessly and bumping into things he'd sworn he'd never seen before. He didn't even have the energy to stop and think- _wait. What am I actually attempting to accomplish here?_

As he stared at his pale reflection in the dorm bathroom mirror, hunched over his sink trying to piece together whatever was happening to him today, he could really only find one thing to blame for his light-headedness wooziness that made the room spin and flash every time he so much as sat up (stumbled) onto his two feet.

He was just relieved evening had finally rolled around. All day he'd been trudging blearily from class to class, ungracefully bumping into strangers with muttered apologies, and tripping over his own two feet in the hallways. His first class had found Kurt slumping in his chair, eyes glazed over, head pounding like a 100 ton hammer as he tried to focus on the lesson. For his second class, he hadn't even realized that he'd been sitting in the wrong class for a good 10 minutes until the professor had asked Kurt something about yesterdays lesson (which, of course, he'd never been in). That was pursued by the most awkward and quickest exit out of a room Kurt'd ever made. And it was only when he'd sat down in his correct class, face burning a blazing pink under the curious and amused stares of the students and teachers, had he then realized that he hadn't even packed the right books for the subject.

Kurt shuddered at the memory. Thank god that hadn't happened _again_. Kurt wasn't ready to just drop out of the Performing Arts University from sheer embarrassment alone just yet. It was only the beginning of the year! Which, Kurt thought, with the feeling of a stone being dropped into the pit of his stomach, was worse because now the whole student body probably thinks he's some sort of dazed and tipsy drunkard who had accidentally stumbled into the academy. _Just great._

Kurt stared at the hideous dark circles under his swirling grey and blue eyes. Despite the attempt to cover them up that morning, he still resembled a racoon. _Thats what you get for rushing_ he thought gloomily. His coiffed hair was slightly dishevelled, and his whole persona just glowed _I participated in my first round of shots yesterday night and it's only now that I'm regretting it!_ Ugh. He'd definitely underestimated alcohol then. One would've thought he'd learnt his lesson from when he'd thrown up on his guidance counsellor's shoes (and she was _OCD_ ), but apparently not.

He was never drinking again. Well, not for the next week or so anyways.

∆—∆—-∆

It was _supposed_ to be a beginning-of-year celebration. Wasn't college important for creating relationships? It's what Kurt had heard from most adults anyways, so if there was a beginning-of-year celebration, why not join in?

Kurt had been expecting a small house party-maybe a little ice cream cake and some karaoke and mingling in the living room. He'd changed into something simple yet elegantly stylish. Dark brown pants that hugged his physique comfortably, and a white blouse-like shirt underneath a dark brown sleeveless vest. He'd even clipped onto his vest a small silver plane broach (because symbolism was important. He'd escaped from the secluded hell of Ohio and he was ready to start anew in a city that welcomed the unique and the different. New York would've been his first choice, but at the Performing Arts University, at least he was out of Ohio.)

He wanted to give off a friendly yet impressive sort of vibe at the party.

Turns out, the party was not at someones house, but at a nightclub. It wasn't really a problem, he was't underaged, but a _nightclub_? He'd never been to a nightclub. Weren't they kind of..rowdy?

He probably should've realized something was up when his roommate had told him to bring his ID, but Kurt'd been too busy fixing up the right outfit and maybe perhaps rolling his roommates British accent around in his mind. British accents were _adorable,_ and sure, at first Kurt had been captivated by his roommate's curly blonde hair, crystal blue eyes and fit physique, but he couldn't be with a guy who wore flip flops like a fashion statement and had thought at first that Patti LuPone was a special edition burger at the fast food joint (seriously?).

To cut a long story short, Kurt had ended up trying way too hard to look impressive and had ended up stumbling into the fresh night air and crashing across the front seats of his roommate's car, his feet dangling out of the open car door. Kurt could've sworn he'd heard the sound of a car door opening, followed by some scuffling of movement, but the alcohol was drowning his common sense and soon after he'd drifted off to a heavy sleep with the assumption that the noise was his roommate getting ready to drive them both home.

Kurt'd woken up from his deep, alcohol hazed slumber to a blaring alarm piercing shrilly through his head, indicating that he now had only 30 minutes to get ready for his first class. And Kurt Hummel would _not_ start skipping classes right at the beginning of the year, even if his severe light-headedness had made him loopy throughout the rest of the day.

Evidently, now that Kurt was back at his dorm and alone, he was able to see (with a bit more clarity than he had in the morning) that going to classes that day had been pretty much the worst idea ever.

Grumbling to himself, Kurt ran the cold water from the tap and let it rinse off all the dreariness that he was feeling. Luckily, his head had stopped pounding like it had been in the morning, and had reduced to a small pulsing beat that only disoriented him a couple times. He sighed, stripping his clothes and dropping them into the purple laundry basket hiding in the bathroom corner.

At least he'd kind of had fun at that club, right? Kurt was pretty sure he remembered blurry faces and soft voices speaking directly to him, but the next time he wanted to be social he should probably stay _away_ from the alcohol.

Tyler, Kurt's roommate, was probably going to text him later to pick him up from his girlfriends house. Unlike Kurt, Tyler had just shrugged off classes and skipped. Which wasn't even fair since, seeing as Tyler had driven them home last night, that probably meant he hadn't even had anything alcoholic. Kurt had a better excuse than he did, and Kurt had _went_ to his classes (which, yes, had turned out awful, but that's not the point).

So, crinkling his nose at the aspect of having to _drive_ somewhere afterwards, Kurt stepped into the cool stream falling from the shower, and let the water cleanse him from the monstrosity of a day he'd just been through.

∆—∆—-∆

Only a few minutes later, Kurt was dressed and ready to head out to pick up his roommate without even having to check the phone that was currently buzzing on the kitchen counter. He didn't have to check the phone to know that Tyler was requesting Kurt drive to pick him up from his girlfriend's. He had probably also asked how Kurt's day had gone (which he was definitely _not_ reviewing over again in text).

Grabbing his car keys from his vintage wood bedside table (flea markets had their ups), Kurt Hummel trudged down to the car, already planning routes and shortcuts in order to make the trip its shortest.

∆—∆—-∆

The ride to Tyler's girlfriend's house usually took about 20 minutes-the short time being the reason why Kurt had agreed to drive over. It was a small distance and, way back when he'd _liked_ Tyler, Kurt had thought this picking-Tyler-up thing was a great opportunity to get closer to him. However, Tyler's girlfriend was sweet and pretty faced and she could best deal with her boyfriend whenever he trounced around the clean floors with his mud-caked neon yellow flip flops. Upon meeting her, Kurt instantly knew that her and Tyler were just meant to be (and also her homemade butterscotch cookies were _heavenly_ ).

It was about 5 minutes into the ride when Kurt Hummel began feeling unsteady. Uneasiness washed over him like a pouring shower. But his headache had subsided, and his vision wasn't blurred, so it couldn't have been last night's round of shots that had made him feel this way. No. Something else was making him uneasy. But what?

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, exhaled slowly, and forced himself to focus on the road ahead. The uneasy feeling could've meant something minor. He knew he'd turned off the shower after using it. The oven was off (he hadn't cooked anything), dorm room locked and all his clothes had been brought up from the laundry. _Just focus on the road_ Kurt breathed. The sky was becoming darker, making way for evening, and Kurt Hummel would rather survive this so-far brutish day then surrender to the sudden, lingering feeling that something was off (thank you very much).

But as he drove on, eyes glued on the light traffic ahead, he heard it. A soft sort of rumble, like that of a small animal purring or maybe growling. Kurt frowned at the noise, pursing his lips together, and glanced at the car controls. The sound was too deep, too near him, to be anything coming from outside. Plus, all the car windows were closed (the weather was relatively mild outside, Kurt wasn't going to roll down his window just for some stagnant wind and a risk of having his retouched coif dishevelled again).

The sound came again, soft and almost… _human like_. It couldn't have been coming from his own car. Kurt spared another glance at his dash. He'd worked with his dad at his garage, Kurt was pretty sure he knew the basics of how a car worked. And he was pretty sure a broken engine did not sound like-like whatever that sound was.

Kurt shuddered, deciding maybe he could turn up the radio, ignore the sound, and check up on the phenomena when he pulled over at Tyler's. Thank goodness he wasn't that far away now, the sound was seriously setting him at nerves edge.

With one touch of a button, the opening notes of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" screamed from the radio and _wow,_ Kurt did not remember turning up the volume _that_ high. Kurt winced at the overbearing loudness and moved to lower the volume- and at that exact same time, someone yelped awake from the backseat of the car and hit his head on the ceiling.

∆—∆—-∆

There was a brief silence as the two, frozen like statues, stared at each other with wide eyes, the only interruption being "Teenage Dream" playing softly through the car.

And then Kurt screamed aloud in panic, the stranger's eyes widened even more, and, without thinking, Kurt had pulled down on his steering wheel so hard that the car swerved dangerously to the left amidst honking cars and angry drivers.

"Wait-Wait I-OW!" The guy in the back had hit his head again, but on the car door handle. Kurt was screaming and in such a blind frenzy that the only thing he could identify from the guy was his black, gelled-back hair and his colourful plaid shirt.

Again, Kurt jerked at the steering wheel, earning another panicked yelp from the back, before he came to his senses once more. Kurt pulled over to the side of the road, away from the traffic, and then jumped out of his car as though the front seat had just burnt him. He figured he probably looked slightly crazy to the public, but there was currently a _stranger_ inside his car. He couldn't worry about his appearance right now with the situation at hand.

Cautiously, Kurt approached his car and peeked in through his open car door, ready to jump away at any given moment in case the guy was what-armed?

Upon closer inspection, Kurt could see that, honestly, said stranger-perhaps-criminal wasn't bad looking _at all_. He had thick eyebrows and almond eyes that were clear and expressive. He was well dressed for a _criminal._ His outfit composed of a stained glass plaid shirt, brown pants and a matching bowtie that Kurt inexplicably just wanted to tug at. With the bowtie, gelled back hair, and large eyes, overall, the stranger gave off a kind of vintage classy movie star feeling and Kurt would've totally been acting like a mumbling and flushing idiot if the so called classic movie star wasn't currently trying to escape Kurt's car by unlocking the back door and expressing panic and intent to escape through his almond honey eyes.

Kurt had to remind himself of the situation at hand. All this time there'd been a _stranger_ inside his car. None of the windows were broken and the alarm hadn't been activated, so this guy must've been some sort of sneaky _mastermind_ with good taste in cars. He probably used that cute bowtie and debonair look to trick people into thinking he was perfectly innocent before stealing their cars. Those strong arms and legs were probably used to knock out the suspicious as well.

Kurt narrowed his eyes in suspicion and watched as the stranger paused to look at him with fear in his eyes. Kurt switched his former panic and awe to a flaming anger and moved to block the guy's exit, intending to calmly interrogate the stranger and then report him (that's how it worked in the films, right?)

He ended up full-on yelling at the guy so loudly, he wouldn't be surprised if the whole road had heard him. "What the _hell_ are you doing in my car?!"

The stranger jerked back from the car door and flattened himself against the backseat, looking like a deer caught in the headlights (amplified more by those large eyes). Kurt smirked to himself, he'd actually managed to _intimidate_ the guy, and moved so that he was leaning through the car door. The stranger didn't answer. He just blinked up fearfully at Kurt.

"Answer the question. What are you doing in my car?" Kurt clipped out, patting himself on the back for his authoritative tone.

The stranger gulped, his adams apple bobbing up and down (Nope, not doing anything to Kurt. Nope.) The guy had a hand against his head, rubbing its redness away from those two times he'd hit himself against Kurt's car.

Now that Kurt wasn't screaming like a damsel in distress, he heard the last few notes of "Teenage Dream" fading to an end. Abruptly, Kurt reached out and switched the radio off. He didn't need Katy Perry ruining his moment here.

He also turned his keys and effectively killed the engine, before expectantly looking back at the movie star stranger.

"Um I-I am so sorry" the guy sitting in the backseat began, his voice as deep and rich as his eyes- ok, _stop that_ Kurt commanded himself. _You have a guilty criminal in your car._ Did that stop him from thinking about the stranger in a way deemed definitely-not-appropriate-for-this-situation? Course not.

The movie star rambled on, a train wreck of nerves, "I-I have no idea how this happened. I don't know where I am and I-you don't even know who _I_ am" he added at Kurt's scoff, "And it looks like I broke in, and now you think I'm an insane criminal which isn't fair because you're a cute guy and I-" The stranger looked pleadingly into Kurt's eyes and ended with a quick whisper "Please don't call the police. I am _so_ sorry."

The stranger was staring up at Kurt as though it was Kurt that decided whether he lived or died.

Despite the situation, Kurt couldn't help but assess his style. He was either an impeccable dresser, or gay. _He also broke into your car_ , his subconscious added. And that snapped Kurt back into reality.

"I still would like to know what exactly you're doing in my car." He added suspiciously, "Were you going to steal it?" The guy's eyes flashed with panic, opening and closing his mouth, before leaning closer to kurt to protest.

"I-no! No way. I'm _not_ a criminal. At all. The closest I got to having a criminal record was when I stole my older brother's stuffed dog as revenge when I was like, _9_ , but I am _not_ a criminal." The debonair stranger paused, and then tilted his head towards Kurt as though trying to figure out an answer to a difficult question.

"Actually…were-were you at a bar yesterday? night? Filled with college freshman kids?" Kurt squinted his eyes in suspicion, and the movie star panicked again, eyes wide and hands gesturing abstractedly. "It's just! That-I'm pretty sure this is important, otherwise this story wont make much sense-like, any sense at all."

Kurt studied him for a moment, the way his eyes were wide with slight panic, but nothing that really screamed 'I'm a criminal weaseling out of my crime'. Slowly, Kurt nodded.

The movie star debonair exhaled in relief, his shoulders slumping. Kurt watched as his expression changed from bewilderment to something curious, and he glanced up at Kurt with a glimmer in his eyes that made Kurt's steadily beating heart trip a step.

"Did you-were you with them?" the stranger inquired, "It's just that, well, I was with them. I go to college at PAU and that was, like, our little celebration for freshmen."

Kurt just raised his own eyebrows. "You go to PAU?" Movie star assessed Kurt once more before nodding. Kurt's heart tripped for a second time. "The Performing Arts University?" Kurt clarified. He _had_ to know. If this guy went to the same college as him- maybe a potential friendship was on the line (or more. Kurt's heart couldn't handle that thought). He should probably learn why this guy was in his car first though.

Movie star raised an eyebrow before nodding, the glimmer in his eyes twinkling more than ever.

 _To hell with it_. Kurt eased himself into a hesitant smile (this guy was _doing_ things to Kurt. HIs eyes ought to be illegal) and breathed out "Me too."

Movie star stranger's eye's widened spectacularly and _wow,_ Kurt's heart just tripped down a whole staircase. The stranger slammed his fist against his knee with the glee of a child getting what they want, and grinned up at Kurt, all former awkwardness vanished into the air.

"I knew it!" Mr. Throwback-to-the-Classics whooped. Kurt just cocked his head in slight puzzlement as the stranger continued bouncing up and down in the backseat. "You were the guy down the bar gulping down those shots Jeff dared you on!" The boy's eyebrows crinkled together as he stared at Kurt in awe and recognition. Kurt could feel his face burning up and _Wow, that's how he remembers me? Seriously?_ What he wouldn't do to shove his face into a freezer and hide from the world right now…

"You know," Movie Star continued on as if nothing were wrong or embarrassing about the situation, "He didn't actually expect you to finish _all_ those drinks, right? You must have a pretty strong gut. Either that, or you were really determined."

Kurt winced at that statement and couldn't help but laugh and then groan aloud as he barely remembered throwing up all the contents of his stomach before stumbling over to crash into his car the night before.

He glanced up wearily at the not-so-stranger stranger, who was watching him with his head tilted, lips parted and eyes still glimmering curiously. Kurt's insides twisted at the sight.

"That…That still doesn't explain how you ended up here in the backseat of my car." Kurt pointed out. Kurt let himself lean forward through the gap of the front seats, smiling when he saw traces of a faint blush appear on the other guy's face.

"Though," Kurt added coyly, "There's probably less of a chance that I'm going to hurl you out of my car now. But the threat still stands if it comes to that." The guy's eyes twinkled in amusement and he barked aloud before returning a steady smile. "Um, thanks?"

And the movie star-like a classic gentlemen-held out his hand for Kurt to shake, as though their meeting circumstance was perfectly normal. He grinned this time. "I'm Blaine."

Kurt stared at his open hand before grasping it in his own. Blaine's hand was warm and welcoming. He had a firm grip, and the contact sent a tingling shock up Kurt's spine. He wondered if the movie star- _Blaine_ \- had felt it too.

Kurt cleared his throat with a nod. "Kurt. Kurt Hummel. Owner of this car and uh-" Kurt crinkled his nose "not-so-victorious shots champion."

Blaine laughed charmingly. It was a hearty laugh and dangerously contagious because soon enough Kurt found himself chuckling alongside Blaine for a good minute and a half. Eventually it died, but the atmosphere was charged not with the tension of two strangers, but with the air of one chatting to a lifelong friend. They were both still smiling by the end, and sneaking amused glances at one another.

"So…" Blaine scratched the back of his neck and flashed Kurt a hesitant and crooked debonair smile, "…I still haven't told you why I'm in your car." Kurt blinked, almost forgetting why they were having his conversation anyways, before nodding at his new, charming and absolutely adorable friend to continue.

"Well, Jeff my-" Blaine made a funny face, "f _riend,_ dared me to break into one of our oblivious college friend's cars using just a shoelace. I went, well, stumbled, outside-and then I saw this car that already had its front door open"

Kurt had a feeling he knew where this story was going. His stomach clenched in anticipation, remembering when he' let himself collapse into the front seat of the car and had assumed it was his roommate who had soon followed after.

"And I was thinking I could just, like, tell Jeff that'd I'd done it with this car. And then I saw you and I just-you looked- comfy I guess?" Obviously Blaine was having a hard time trying to find the right words. HIs face was scrunched up in concentration, "I…guess I fell asleep. and, uh, here I…am." Blaine was full-on blushing now (it was _adorable_ ). Kurt tried to figure out this puzzle that Blaine was creating. "So…you just opened my car and crashed for the whole day?"

"Um.." Blaine hesitated, before cautiously admitting, "Yes?" And before Kurt could exclaim anything, or point out the fault that Blaine claimed to be asleep this whole day, Blaine mowed on, "I mean, alcohol does crazy, crazy things to me and yes, I did wake up at one point, but I was locked inside your car, and also experiencing the worst hangover ever."

"So," Kurt surmised, "that means Tyler-my roommate," he added at Blaine's blank expression, "drove us home…and didn't see you? Which means that his girlfriend probably drove over to pick him up this morning…I'm picking him up from hers because she and I love to talk and…you just- slept the whole day off in my car?"

"Yes." Blaine deadpanned, and Kurt had to laugh at his serious expression as he too had also put together the puzzle.

"And" Kurt's eyes widened, and guilt settled in his stomach as he whipped out his phone to find numerous text messages from Tyler asking 'Where you at, man? You didn't crash the car, did you?'

Blaine was watching Kurt. "Um-everything good?" Kurt let out an exasperated sigh and hit his forehead against the steering wheel, already closing the car door with a soft _bam_ and starting the engine with a twist of his car keys.

"I'm running late" he mumbled with a roll of his eyes, shifting back into the front seat. Blaine looked on, and then his mouth formed a perfect 'O' in realization. He took on an uneasy expression of guilt, fidgeting with his fingers. "I-you were going somewhere important, weren't you? And I just made you late because I- Oh god, I woke up in your backseat as a hungover stranger- oh my go-" "Blaine!" Kurt was laughing now. He turned again and placed a reassuring squeeze on Blaine's knee and rolled his eyes again. "It's just my roommate. He decided to stay at his girlfriend's all day instead of taking classes."

"Taking-" Blaine's eyes widened and _seriously_ , he _had_ to _stop tha_ t it was too cute and distracting. "I had classes today." Blaine muttered to himself, panic now blazing in his almond honey eyes. "I had classes today and I just skipped out on them. Oh my god, I'm going to get kicked out, Kurt." Blaine was spiralling into absolute,panicky rambling now, and Kurt had to find a solution to calm him. He took Blaine by the hand and rubbed his thumb around in what he hoped were soothing circles. It seemed to work anyways. Blaine's breathing had slowed, and he was looking up at Kurt with worry weaved into his stare. Kurt felt Blaine's tension slowly seeping away from his body.

"Hey. Trust me, you wouldn't have wanted to go to classes today if you ended up falling asleep in some strangers car. _Trust me_ " Kurt repeated at the slight incredulous look in Blaine's eyes, "I went today, and it was the _worst_. I couldn't focus and, seriously, I felt like dying in each class. It was slow torture." He held Blaine's gaze steadily, trying to calm him. He couldn't look away and apparently, neither could Blaine.

"You deserved to skip, if you seriously slept all day, you probably needed it. You can always catch up and ask around for help. I'm available as long as you need me, seeing as we both go to the same university." (That last part had just rolled off Kurt's tongue without a filter.) Kurt tried for a hopeful smile and Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand. The motion set off a flutter in Kurt's stomach.

Shifting in his seat, and glancing down at their hands as Kurt let go, he turned to the road, now dark from the night that had arrived whilst Kurt and Blaine had talked. As he drove back onto the road, carefully looking out for any passing cars, he heard a throat clear from the backseat. Kurt glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as Blaine became a sudden bundle of nerves with a cute bowtie and too much hair gel (Kurt would definitely have to uncover _that_ one day).

"Hey, um, I know we definitely met in less than ideal circumstances-" "Understatement." Kurt muttered, thinking back to when he'd nearly crashed the car from surprise of finding Blaine. Blaine laughed heartedly, his nerves fading and now a genuinely friendly and hopeful smile in place of his nervous one. "There's a small cafe down the street from PAU, and its got amazing coffee, and their pastries are pretty good…"

Kurt knew exactly what cafe Blaine was referring to, but he let Blaine continue on describing the cozy corner cafe, his heart thumping and veins humming with the implications that Blaine may very well be asking Kurt out on a _date._

 _"_ _-_ Wanted to check it out?" Blaine had finished, and Kurt realized that he hadn't been listening, but had been too busy fantasizing about various dates to the cafe with Blaine. "Hmmm?" Kurt hummed out, smiling to himself. Blaine was blushing pink and Kurt felt a little bad for not listening in the first place. (Though he was pretty sure he already knew the question Blaine was going to ask, but lets not jump to hasty and dreamy conclusions now, shall we?)

"I asked if you wanted to go out with me. You know, you're a cute guy." Kurt let his own grin and energetic nod of his head answer the question. Blaine blushed once more, a small smile appearing at the corner of his lips, before glancing out the window at the passing trees. Kurt was back to looking at the road ahead when he heard shuffling behind him.

Letting curiosity get the best of him, he glanced out of the corner of his eye only to find Blaine climbing out of the backseat and sliding into the passenger seat next to Kurt. It was really hard to keep his ridiculous grin to himself, and even more so when he felt Blaine's warm and familiar hand enclose around his free hand. The fluttering feeling was beating rapidly inside him, the giddy feeling in his stomach hard to repress. He let it show through his smile.

He felt a squeeze to his hand and puffed out a small sigh, driving steadily and grasping Blaine's hand while he pictured coffee dates, quarrels for whoever paid, touching him, holding him, _kissing_ the guy (which he found out, after the fourth date, was practically like a drug and left Kurt feeling like giddy idiot every time.)

But for now, Kurt was driving down the dark road hand in hand with who would one day be the love of his life. Neither of them knew that yet, though. Presently, Kurt had to make the decision to either reprimand his roommate Tyler for his observation skills, or thank him for being the clueless flip-flops bearing oaf that he was.


End file.
